


there are sweet things within

by sunprincewonpil (astrorarepairs)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cohabitation, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, School Trilogy AU, as always there's one-sided wonpil/sungjin, because who am i as a writer without that tag, jae and dowoon are mentioned like once, not related to "what am i to you", other idols are mentioned too, there's no smut btw but the sexual content isn't just implied either so i used the mild tag, what can I do MV au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrorarepairs/pseuds/sunprincewonpil
Summary: It felt strange to see Wonpil being the one receiving the lovestruck, moony gazes—all throughout high school, Younghyun thought of him as Sungjin’s shadow, always following him with big eyes full of admiration. He was in the giving end back then.orAnother DAY6 school trilogy AU, set in college after all the events in the MVs.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Kim Wonpil
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	there are sweet things within

**Author's Note:**

> yes. another au based on the school trilogy. this is completely unrelated to my old fic, though. i just couldn't help writing this and i wanted to post this for the 3rd anniversary of the "what can i do" music video, but i was a bit late.
> 
> other k-pop idols mentioned here are: namjoon from bts, jaehyun from n.flying, plus a guest role for youngjo/ravn from oneus because i discovered that he trained with young k, wonpil, jae, and was close to them back then. hwanwoong from oneus is mentioned too because i like placing my other ships in my fics lmao [they're](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EZm6yrIWkAInwJT?format=jpg) [really](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EZm6zWQWoAY16hd?format=jpg) [cute](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EZm7lvuWoAAwpe3?format=jpg)
> 
> anyway, i hope u enjoy this word vomit <3
> 
> (title is from _the handmaiden_ soundtrack)

There were multiple reasons why Younghyun hated being back in Seoul: there was the fact that he didn't want to transfer to another college in his third year but his parents dragged him back according their whims, when he had just finally gotten used to a different country—and another one of those reasons was that classes in Seoul started so damn early in the morning.

The first thing he saw when he entered the classroom was a gaggle of people forming a circle, talking loud and all looking down. Not a good welcoming sight when his mood was already sour.

But the second thing he saw, when one person in the circle moved, was that in the middle of it, was his old classmate in high school. 

“Wonpil?” he called out.

“Younghyun?” Wonpil parroted, breaking the ring of people around him to stand up and look at Younghyun. “You came back from Canada?”

“Yeah, we moved back here.”

“It’s been so long! It’s so nice to see you again,” Wonpil said in the sincere tone he always had, patting the seat next to him that another person was hovering around. “Sit beside me?”

Younghyun moved to where he was sitting, and the classmates surrounding Wonpil backed away in unison like a school of fish.

He placed his bag on the ground, and was then greeted by Wonpil’s bright smile as he looked up again. “What are the chances that we’re in the same university and have the same class, huh?”

“I know, what a coincidence.”

“What are you majoring in?”

“I’m double-majoring in practical music and, umm… modeling. I found it interesting.”

Younghyun took a long look at Wonpil, whose face became sharper over the years and had learned to sit up straighter—his hair was now grown out and wavy, always bringing a hand up to push it back the way he never did in high school when he used to cut it short.

There weren’t a lot of things that seemed to have changed with Wonpil, including his love for music, but the vibe he gave off was far from the meek, quiet kid that always chose to stay in the library if he wasn’t playing basketball with them. His modeling major must have helped him with that. 

“It suits you.”

“Really? Thanks,” Wonpil said after a pause, tucking a lock of hair beneath his ear. “What about you?”

“Business administration. I was credited for the classes I took in college when I was still in Canada, but I have to make up for a few more.”

Wonpil nodded, still smiling, and Younghyun wondered if he could feel all the eyes of their classmates on him or if he was just oblivious.

It felt strange to see Wonpil being the one receiving the lovestruck, moony gazes—all throughout high school, Younghyun thought of him as Sungjin’s shadow, always following him with big eyes full of admiration. He was in the giving end back then.

“Hey, has anyone shown you around campus yet? Your roommate, maybe?” Wonpil asked.

“No, and I don’t have one, actually. I live in an apartment outside campus.”

“Oh! I can show you around, if you want?”

“Sure,” Younghyun accepted easily, taking out his phone to hand it to Wonpil. “Just put your number.”

They exchange numbers and promise to meet up for coffee soon, and Younghyun was annoyed as he felt scowls directed at him, but he couldn’t care to comment on it seeing as how clueless Wonpil was.

Barely a week since he transferred to his college and he was already learning how popular and sought-after Wonpil was across all majors and years.

The same conversation would repeat over and over in each of his classes:

“You’re Kang Younghyun, right? I heard you’re close with Wonpil.”

“We used to be classmates in high school.”

“Nice,” his classmate would reply, as if actually interested in Younghyun’s explanation. “Can you get me his number?”

He refused to give Wonpil’s number and didn’t hesitate to glare when his classmates would scoff, accusing him of being unfriendly and stingy. 

It wasn’t so surprising, since Wonpil was popular back in high school, too, only second to Dowoon, who had his own fanclub. There wasn’t a reason _not_ to like Wonpil—he was naturally nice and kind, always having a smile for someone no matter who they are, and he was cute, but that got upgraded in college, the more apt term now being _handsome_.

What was interesting, though, was that all the people who approached him hoping to score Wonpil’s number were all men.

“How’s class 2’s basketball team?”

Wonpil toured him around campus and took him to his dorm’s cafeteria, promising that they serve the best food in the entire university. Younghyun was preparing himself to be a loner, much like how he was back in Canada, since he was starting to have a reputation for being arrogant (no doubt spread by the seniors who didn’t get Wonpil’s number from him), but his old classmate had taken him under his wing.

They weren’t exactly _friends_ in high school, but it was nice to have someone that knew him already—there was none of that get-to-know-each-other phase he found unbearable.

“Sungjin’s in Busan, he’s majoring in education. Jaehyung is a political science major but I’m not sure about Dowoon; I think he’s studying business too, since they have a family business he’s probably going to inherit.”

Younghyun hummed around his straw as he took it all in. “You’re pretty updated with everyone.”

“Not really, I just know what Sungjin tells me,” Wonpil said with a shrug. “No one knew what _you_ were up to, though. You don’t have SNS.”

“Yeah, it’s not really my thing.” Younghyun went back to eating his tonkatsu, but Wonpil had his lips pressed together, looking like he wanted to say something. “What?”

“Um… how’s Minjung?”

Younghyun stilled, just for a beat, before swallowing his food. He’s moved on, the wound has closed long ago, but he wasn’t used to talking about it. Wonpil would be the first one he would tell, since he didn’t have any friends in Canada.

“I don’t know. We broke up after we graduated and I left Seoul.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Wonpil said with a wince. “Was it bad?”

“No. We just spent less and less time talking to each other when I moved, so we decided to split.”

“I’m sorry.”

Younghyun snorted as he looked at Wonpil’s face, which was too somber for someone who wasn’t even involved in the relationship. “It’s fine, no big deal.”

Despite the reassurance, Wonpil ducked his head and squirmed in his seat, and for a moment, Younghyun felt like they were back in high school.

“What subjects are you taking right now?” Wonpil asked, after he had gotten over his embarrassment. 

“I’m taking five subjects. We’re classmates in sociology, then I have business accounting—”

“Who do you have for that?”

“Professor Cho. Cho Daewon.”

“I’ve heard of him, he’s the worst!” Younghyun laughs at Wonpil’s outburst. “He doesn’t show up to class at all, but he makes you write papers that span for like six pages, not even double spaced, and there were even rumors that he just gives grades like he's spinning a roulette. He's _that_ lazy, I don't even know why he's still here.”

As Wonpil goes on a ramble about the worst professors that he had ever taken (and those he hasn’t taken but had heard bad news about), Younghyun finds that listening to his voice makes him feel the most at home ever since moving back to Seoul.

* * *

He had received an invitation from Wonpil to a get together that also functioned as his welcome “party”—Wonpil had made himself responsible to get Younghyun acquainted with their university culture, which he couldn’t care less about, but he didn’t want to invalidate Wonpil’s efforts.

It’s just dinner, anyway. He’ll just eat, drink, grill the meat, and speak if he’s spoken to.

“You can bring your friends, too!” Wonpil had told him, as if there was anyone else Younghyun considered a friend but him.

The only person Younghyun brought—just for the sake of bringing someone—was his junior, Kim Youngjo, who was one of the few people that didn’t approach him for Wonpil’s number. “I’m happily committed,” he had said with his lips curled, before proceeding to show the picture of his boyfriend to Younghyun, cooing about how cute and tiny he is.

“You’re friends with Youngjo?” Wonpil asked as he occupied the cushion beside him. 

“We’re classmates. You know him?”

“We're in the same music production club and we used to live in the same dorm before he moved out and got an apartment with his boyfriend.” Younghyun nodded in understanding, beginning to pour soju into his and Wonpil's glasses. “Has he shown you his camera gallery yet?”

“Oh yeah, right from when we met. It’s just full of his selfies, his boyfriend, and their dog.”

“He’s so whipped. We thought it was the honeymoon phase, but he’s been like that since he was a freshman.”

Younghyun raised his shot glass and clinked it with Wonpil's. “Good for him.”

“Good for him!” he echoed with a laugh.

There were a lot of other people with them, Wonpil’s friends from his classes and the music production club, but Younghyun didn’t really bother socializing with them. He knew some of their names, he introduced himself to them, and they’ll probably greet each other if they meet on campus—that was enough.

Younghyun expected Wonpil to spend the entire dinner tending to his other friends, he invited them after all, but he just left them to talk amongst themselves since everyone knew everyone. 

Wonpil fixed himself by Younghyun’s side, and they talked and talked, having conversations about the past that their companions couldn't join even if they tried.

Youngjo went home early while Wonpil’s friends asked them if they wanted to go to a club after dinner, but both of them refused. Wonpil was even faster than Younghyun to say no.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with them?” Younghyun had asked him.

“I’m sure. I'm not really for that kind of scene.”

And so they walk back together at midnight, elbows knocking together as they huddle for warmth, trying to fight off the cold bite of the night.

"You know, so many people have tried to ask me for your number," Younghyun started, gauging Wonpil's reaction before continuing. "And they were all guys."

"Oh, um. Yeah,” Wonpil replied, tugging at his ear that was growing even redder after drinking. “I guess I never really tried to hide it after high school."

Younghyun sent him a small smile that he hoped looked reassuring. “No shame in that.”

Wonpil didn’t return the smile, only looking at Younghyun with wide eyes.

“I never gave them your number, of course. You’re a catch, but they’ll have to try something else.”

An image suddenly occupied Younghyun's brain: Wonpil glued to Sungjin's side wherever they went, getting teased by their classmates that he was a _sunflower_ , because he only looked at Sungjin's direction.

If Wonpil liked men, then maybe—

"Wait. Did you have a crush on Sungjin back in high school?"

Wonpil stops in his tracks, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. “W—what are you talking about?”

"I thought it might have been just admiration, like you respected him a lot, but now that I know this information—it changes everything," Younghyun went on, mind too busy racing to filter his words. “You know what, let me rephrase the question: do you still have a crush on Sungjin?”

Wonpil started walking again, taking large strides to leave Younghyun behind him. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

“So you used to?”

“Unfortunately.”

"But you're still friends with him."

"Yeah, that part can't change."

"You spent all those years in high school just pining after him? While you two are best friends?”

Wonpil slowed down and they stopped in front of a pedestrian lane. He nodded. “Really stupid of me, huh?”

"You’ve moved on, though. How did that happen?”

A green-lit stick figure shone in their peripheral view and they continued walking as Wonpil told his story.

"Three years is a long time to pine for someone. I just woke up one day feeling so sick of not being seen, of not even being a choice to him," Wonpil gritted out, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "It didn't go away instantly, but it was easier once I wasn't having delusions that maybe _someday_ , things can change—that he'd suddenly realize he was in love with me all along."

As Younghyun listened to him, pride filled his chest. He didn't know if he was in a position to feel proud of Wonpil, but it was all he felt. It must have been hard to continuously snap yourself out of hoping something would happen, to fight against his own feelings until it fades and changes.

“You’re amazing.” Younghyun added, “It’s Sungjin’s loss.”

Wonpil stared at Younghyun, eyebrows slightly quirked. Without saying anything, he walked forward, but Younghyun stopped him with a tug on his coat.

“This is my apartment already,” he said, gesturing to the tall building beside him.

“Are you going to invite me inside?”

“Do you want to sleep over? Are you too drunk to go back to your dorm?”

“I’m not drunk. And I’m not talking about that.”

Younghyun watched in fascination as Wonpil's gaze darkened and as he tilted his head up to lessen the distance between them. “Ah.”

There were things Younghyun could see coming from a mile away, things that were obvious—this was not one of them.

Wonpil was attracted to him. Wonpil liked him enough to want to sleep with him.

And Younghyun found that he reciprocated both of those.

His internal processing took too long, and Wonpil was already stepping backwards when Younghyun's head finally caught up with what was happening.

“Sorry, I must have misread things. I’ll just go home.”

“No, wait,” Younghyun said as he grabbed Wonpil's arm to stop him from leaving. “I just thought you didn't think of me that way.”

"I do. D—do you?" 

Words were never Younghyun's strong point—he let go of Wonpil's arm, entwining their hands instead, and Younghyun led him upstairs to his apartment.

When Younghyun wakes up, he reaches out an arm to see if he wasn't alone in his bed, and his hand lands on Wonpil's soft, warm back. 

He traced soft circles on his skin and Wonpil moans sleepily, though it doesn't sound far from how he moaned into Younghyun’s mouth last night.

"...time is it?”

"It's 9 am. Do you have class?”

"No… don't have Saturday classes," Wonpil mumbled into his pillow. "You?”

"I don't have any either. I just need to do some research."

"...to the library?”

"Well, not right now," Younghyun said. "You're still here."

Wonpil tried opening his eyes, which were also covered by his unruly mass of curly hair. He laid on his back and settled for squinting at Younghyun. "Should I leave?"

"No, stay. I can do it in the afternoon."

Younghyun helped Wonpil push his hair back so he could open his eyes without being poked. He blinked and blinked and blinked, his face slowly wrinkling as he smiled up at him.

“Oh. Good morning,” he greeted, although his gaze was very much on the tent by Younghyun’s crotch and not on his face.

Younghyun laughed, leaning down to place a kiss on Wonpil's lips, but a hand covered his mouth.

It almost sent his heart shooting up his throat, until Wonpil said, "I have morning breath."

But Wonpil didn't have a problem with kissing and biting at his neck, one hand caging Younghyun to the mattress and the other already making its way down to stroke Younghyun's cock.

Hours passed and the sun had set—yet no research got done that day.

* * *

Whatever awkwardness Younghyun expected could stem from the new aspect of their friendship, it never materialized.

They walk each other to classes whenever they can, eat together whenever they can, hang out outside of their campus whenever they can, and now they have sex at Younghyun's apartment whenever they can.

“Do you have class right now?" or “Want to go out?” or simply just “Where are you?” were texts for each other that were purely innocent and exchanged between Younghyun and Wonpil on a daily basis.

But when they say, "Are you free tonight?" it immediately meant something else.

They never had a _talk_ about it; they never referred to their arrangement and never tried to give it a label. Younghyun's fine with that—it might lessen the possibility of whatever they have going on being short-lived.

It takes about two months for Wonpil to finally speak up about the boxes in Younghyun’s apartment that still haven't been unpacked. He trips on the boxes on his way to the bathroom for what seemed like the hundredth time, and apparently, that was his limit.

“Do you need me to help you sort through these? It's been a while since you moved back to Seoul.”

Younghyun shrugged. He knew that he wouldn't get it done by himself. “If you don’t have anything else to do.”

“You don’t mind me seeing your stuff?”

“It’s not like I have anything to hide.”

They started going through the boxes immediately that night, with both of them knowing well that they had papers to write and texts to read through but Wonpil was excited to be doing something productive other than coursework.

“Wonpil, can you hand me the cutter,” Younghyun asked, wriggling his fingers, but there was no response. “Wonpil?”

“This is cute. I never took you for the type to keep our class photo.”

He was holding a clear acrylic frame in his hands, beaming at it as his eyes scanned the faces of their classmates. Younghyun never put it up in his room in Canada, but it also went with him wherever he moved. "That was a gift."

"We were standing beside each other when we took the photo but I never realized it until now."

Younghyun peeked at it to confirm, smiled at Wonpil, then went back to sorting through his box filled with bedsheets.

“Oh,” Wonpil breathed out after a minute of silence.

“Hm? What?”

When Wonpil turned it around, the back part of the frame had a picture of him and Minjung, taken on their first date when Younghyun took her to his favorite arcade. “You guys looked really happy.”

“We were, back then. But I don’t have bitter feelings about it; we had fun together, we grew apart, and the break-up was mutual.”

"I remember when the whole class was shocked to see you and Minjung holding hands when you entered the room one morning."

"She never cared about what other people would think. I really liked that about her."

“Did you date? In Canada?”

“No, I never bothered. Didn’t feel like it anyway,” he replied, not trying to sound dismissive but there wasn’t anything else to say. “How about you? Did you date after high school?”

“Just two guys, but I didn't date them for long and we’re just good friends now.”

Younghyun’s ears perked up at that. “Do I know them?”

“You’ve met both of them, actually.”

“What? During the dinner?”

“Yeah. Namjoonie and Jaehyunnie.”

He remembered Kim Namjoon, the philosophy major with a friendly-looking face and dimples. He had initially offered to walk Wonpil back to his dorm that night. 

Younghyun remembered Kim Jaehyun, too, who had happiness stamped on his face and was pretty much the life of the party because he never ran out of interesting anecdotes to tell. 

“Wonpil, I think you have a type. You like the sweet boy-next-doors with cute smiles.”

“I don’t have a type,” Wonpil denied, rolling his eyes. “ _You’re_ not like that.”

Younghyun thought, “ _Do fuckbuddies count?”_ But he didn’t want to mention that word to Wonpil out loud. 

Instead he just asked, “Yeah? What type am I like?”

“You’re more like a bad boy—no, wait, not bad. Just rough.”

“You like it rough.”

A ball of used tape hit his face, followed by the sound of Wonpil’s wheezy giggles. Younghyun slides off his bed to pin Wonpil to the floor and tickle him all over his body, and it takes them a while to resume unpacking.

There were times where Younghyun would wait for Wonpil outside of whichever classroom or practice room he was in, since his weekdays usually ended earlier—the one and only perk of having back to back classes. Wonpil would peek from the room’s window and wave at Younghyun every single time, like he was always surprised to see him there. 

Younghyun picked up Wonpil from the music production club room one day, and if it was weird to see Wonpil surrounded by people wherever he went, it was even weirder to not see him flocked by students who unabashedly looked at him with smitten smiles.

Later, as they were eating out, Younghyun decided to ask something that had been on his mind for a few days, "Are you dating someone right now?"

Wonpil almost choked around his chopsticks as he burst into laughter, but he paused as he saw Younghyun’s straight face. "Wait? You were serious?"

"People haven't been asking me for your number lately."

There used to be about 6 people a week (juniors, seniors, and one time, a teacher’s assistant) who would naively approach him, hoping to get Wonpil’s number, but lately there wasn’t anyone at all. Totally zero.

Combined with the lack of admirers surrounding Wonpil in the club room, it made Younghyun think that maybe students on campus had seen him with someone—that everyone else knew not to try and ask Wonpil out because he was currently taken.

"Hmm. Wonder why," Wonpil hummed, the corners of his mouth lifting.

"So, are you dating someone?"

"If I was dating, you'd be the first to know."

“There’s really no one? Not even a guy who you casually go out with from time to time?” Younghyun asked again, torn about being frustrated or comforted by the wide smile on Wonpil’s face that never went away.

“No, just you.”

Younghyun couldn’t even begin to describe how good it felt to hear those words.

When the doorbell rang, Younghyun was almost tempted to not answer it, since he had his head buried in a textbook that had annotations swallowing the margins, but he decided to see who was on the other side of the door that kept on pressing the damn button. It couldn’t be Wonpil, since they both knew they didn’t have time for a romp in the sheets during midterms week.

But it _was_ Wonpil, who was beaming and holding up a blue box.

Younghyun blinked at him. Did he change his mind? “Did you text me?”

“I didn’t, that’s not why I’m here,” Wonpil answered as he made his way to Younghyun’s narrow dining table and placed the box on top of it. “I bought cake!”

“Shit, is it your birthday? But it’s not April—is it _my_ birthday?”

“It’s November! Are you okay? Have you slept?”

“No. I have two exams tomorrow,” Younghyun admitted. He knew he looked like shit.

Wonpil cupped his face, running his thumbs over the bags underneath Younghyun’s eyes. “That’s why I brought cake. You've been really busy studying for midterms and I wanted to surprise you. I thought I could cheer you up a bit.”

“You… thanks, Wonpil,” Younghyun whispered, trying not to whimper when Wonpil removed his hands from his face—he wished he could keep that sensation in a bottle and feel it whenever he needed comfort.

“I’ll put the cake in your fridge.”

“We’re not eating it yet?”

“Now that I look at you, I think you need sleep more than cake.”

Younghyun found himself being pushed down to his bed, which was a usual instance if they were about to have sex, but for the first time, he and Wonpil just laid there—clothed and tucked underneath the thick blanket.

“Pretend that you’re back in high school not caring about homework,” Wonpil said as he threw an arm over Younghyun’s chest and hooked his chin on his shoulder. “It’s a cool summer day, the teacher is Yun-ssaem and he’s explaining how physics is important in everyday life, and you just want to sleep.”

“Yun-ssaem really did have a quiet, monotone voice.”

“Right? I was always trying to fight sleep since I was near the front.”

With Wonpil’s warm chest pressing against his back and his fingers tapping slow beats on his forearm, Younghyun fell asleep hoping he’d wake up the exact same way.

“You used to work part-time during high school, right?” Wonpil asked, seemingly out of nowhere but it was probably prompted by the fact that they were inside a convenience store buying hair dye—Younghyun had complained about his red hair fading into a shade of brown he didn’t like, and Wonpil was more than happy to help. The part-timer behind the counter was on her phone, looking as bored as Younghyun was when he was in her place.

“Yeah, for like a year and a half.”

“You must’ve been really busy. Did you need the money?”

Younghyun’s family was well-off, and if Wonpil wasn’t so polite and considerate, he would’ve pointed that out since he knew it, too. “Not really. I just didn’t like being at home. And it didn’t hurt to have savings—that's how I'm able to rent my apartment now.”

“Is it okay to ask why?” Wonpil whispers as he hooks his pinky with Younghyun’s, his other hand holding a pack of choco pie and a box of black hair dye. 

Not for the first time, Younghyun found himself telling Wonpil something he has never told anyone before. There was something about Wonpil that made Younghyun feel like he could tell him all his secrets if he asked for it. “It was just a house, not a home. Everyone was always under one roof, but my parents had separate offices inside.”

“But you're always in your apartment now. Does it feel like home?”

“It’s starting to.” Wonpil smiles at him, the happiness and relief on his face brought by his answer so genuine that Younghyun’s next sentence gets stuck in his throat: _Because you’re always there._

He leaves it at that. There were still some things he couldn’t tell Wonpil, after all.

“Fuck, oh my god!”

Younghyun raised his head from where he was licking stripes up Wonpil’s hole, curious about his reaction when they’d only just started. “Are you gonna come already?”

“No, I have a paper due at midnight! I completely forgot about it. Fuck,” Wonpil cried out as he pushed away Younghyun, leaving him with a peck on his lips as an apology. “Younghyun, can I use your computer?”

He hummed in reply, laying down on his side to watch Wonpil put on his boxers. “You know the password anyway.”

Wonpil boots up his desktop and opens the word processor, starting to type down an outline. His face was all scrunched up from the combination of concentration and stress, but Younghyun found it adorable. 

“What’s your paper about?”

“I have to analyze a score from a film.”

“Do you choose the film yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m doing _The Handmaiden._ ”

“That’s the long movie we watched last week. With the badass lesbians.” 

He wasn’t one for watching movies since he almost just always slept through them, but Wonpil wanted to watch it with him after a friend from his music production club had recommended it and talked about how good the soundtrack is. Younghyun did end up liking the movie but it was even better watching Wonpil gasp and worry his lip whenever there was a plot twist.

“I’ve got my notes written down when we were watching it but I haven’t started on the paper,” Wonpil said as he rummaged through his bag. “I can’t find my binder. I think I left it in my dorm room.”

“No, it’s here. In the first drawer under my desk.”

Younghyun has never realized how much his apartment has become filled with Wonpil’s belongings and how natural it is for him to just find them all over his place—there were Wonpil’s sweaters occupying half of his clothes rack, his music sheets and journals beside Younghyun’s textbooks, and even his skin care products had their own row in his bathroom. Even some of Younghyun’s things were now labelled as Wonpil’s, like the fluffy yellow towel he used when sleeping over and the mug Younghyun won from an arcade game back in high school.

“Almost all of your things are here. Isn’t it a hassle to get them when my apartment is further from campus than your dorm?”

“Not really,” Wonpil said distractedly, too busy alternating between checking his notes and typing them down on the computer.

“Maybe you should just move in,” Younghyun mumbled. “With me.”

“If I did, we wouldn’t get anything done, ever.”

“We unpacked my stuff before. You’ve helped me run through my presentations and we sometimes study together. And you’re getting your paper done right now.”

Wonpil glanced at Younghun and laughed. “I’m _cramming_ my paper.”

“Right.” Younghyun cleared his throat, but it still felt like something was lodged inside. “The offer still stands.”

“I’ll think about it again, I promise.”

“For now—here.” Younghyun reached over to open his wallet and placed on the desk the small piece of metal he had been carrying with him for a week.

“A spare key?”

“If your classes somehow end earlier than mine and you want to hang out here, feel free to use it.”

“Are you sure I can have this?”

“It's yours.”

Wonpil looks at him with his big, glossy eyes, clutching the key in his fist. “Thank you.”

“Go on and write your paper. Sorry for distracting you.” Younghyun turned around and pressed his face against the pillow, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Wake me up when you’re done.”

"Younghyuuuuun," Wonpil whined the moment Younghyun picked up his call. "I feel like I'm going to pass out."

"Are you okay? Should I pick you up?"

"I was exaggerating, but I really am so fucking tired."

Younghyun relaxed and stopped putting on his clothes. "Practicing for finals not going well?”

"It's fine, but I feel like I only have a fourth of the energy I need since I'm preparing for other exams too. And we have projects to pass next week, ugh."

"Do you want to do something to relax?"

"No… I just want to go home," Wonpil said, voice small, and Younghyun hoped he could help more, but finals week was kicking everyone’s asses, including his.

"Where are you? Don’t study or practice anymore for today and just rest."

"I’m not going to. I’m in the elevator."

"Alright. Sleep well. Call me after.”

"No, not my dorm. I meant your building's elevator."

Not a minute later, Younghyun's front door swung open, and Wonpil was dropping his bag and taking off his shoes with a long groan.

"Hi," Wonpil greeted as he walked to where Younghyun was sitting in front of his desk, placed a kiss on his cheek, and proceeded to drop on his bed face-down.

Younghyun takes a glance at Wonpil, who was already kicking off his pants and making the blanket into a cocoon, hoping he didn't see how Younghyun reacted when he kissed his cheek.

That was the first time Wonpil had kissed him that wasn't a precursor to sex or exchanged post-coital, and it shouldn't be a big deal because they've done so much more—but Younghyun help but feel like his chest was constricting, drowning in newfound hopes that would surely fuck him up.

* * *

Younghyun should have known that things were going too well lately—the semester ended without him failing any classes, Younghyun and Wonpil spent the break cooped up in his apartment watching movies and dramas after Wonpil came back from visiting his family, he had a good schedule for the second semester that didn’t start at 8 am, and Seoul was starting to feel like home again.

Everything starts to fall apart one Friday afternoon, when Younghyun was in Wonpil’s dorm for a rare change. Wonpil wanted to show him the succulent that he bought from the university fair and asked him to help name it.

“It looks like a Bulbasaur to me.”

“That’s not bad, but it’s a bit of a mouthful,” Wonpil told him as he leaned back, pressed against Younghyun’s chest and sitting between his legs. He held the pot up, rotating it in his hands as if he would find the perfect name for it under its leaves.

There was a knock on the door and Wonpil extracted himself from Younghyun's hold to open the door, giving him the succulent. "My roommate probably forgot his keys. He always does that."

“Hey, Wonpil,” a voice greeted when the door opened. “You look like you’re seeing a ghost.”

“Sungjin?”

Younghyun sat up, feeling a sense of dread and the guilt that followed it. He watched as Wonpil gripped the edge of the door, and he considered it a good thing that he could only see his back and not the expression on his face.

“I didn’t know you were visiting! What—how are you here right now?”

“There was this one book I needed for research that was only available in your university’s library. I wanted to surprise you too, it’s nice seeing your shocked face,” Sungjin explained before he peeked into the room and squinted at Younghyun. “Is that your roommate?”

“No, um, you remember Younghyun from high school?”

“What? He’s back?”

“Yeah, he moved to Seoul again, and he would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him as if he’s not here,” Younghyun said.

Sungjin cackled, waving at him from the hallway. “Sorry. Nice to see you again, Younghyun.”

“Likewise.”

“Wonpil, do you wanna eat dinner? Catch up?” Sungjin asked. Younghyun noted how he wasn’t part of the invitation.

“Sure! I can't believe you're here, you're usually so busy.” Wonpil goes around the room in a flurry, placing his things inside his bag, putting on his jacket and his socks, then pauses when he sees Younghyun, still sitting on his bed and holding his succulent. “Younghyun? You’re not coming with us?”

“I'm good. You guys should go.”

Wonpil's hand wraps around his wrist and Younghyun could already feel himself surrendering. “It’s more fun if there’s the three of us. We can all catch up with each other. It’s fine with Sungjin, right?”

“Yeah.” Younghyun didn’t know if he was being a bitch or if Sungjin really hesitated to answer. “Join us for dinner.”

Wonpil and Sungjin chatted animatedly, unleashing stories that they haven't told for a span of a year, even though they always text each other. Younghyun knew everything that Wonpil was telling him, but he kept quiet, letting the two best friends be absorbed in their own world.

He loved the sound of Wonpil's laughter, but right now, every giggle that Sungjin elicited from Wonpil was a punch to his chest.

Younghyun wasn't a completely possessive bastard—he was never bothered when Wonpil would go out with his music production club friends and his exes. But this was _Sungjin_ , and Younghyun couldn't help but just want him away from them.

“I have something to confess,” Sungjin started and Younghyun felt his blood run cold. “I’m dating Minjung.”

Younghyun let out an exhale.

There were two sets of eyes on him that just _stared_ and he snapped, “What? Are you both waiting for my violent reaction?”

“It isn’t awkward for you?”

“We were over long ago, I really don’t care.”

“I just wanted to say it. I felt like I was hiding it if I didn’t.”

“Well good for you, man. Your wait is over.”

Sungjin froze as Younghyun took another shot of soju. “You knew that I liked her? Even when you guys were together?”

“It was pretty obvious,” he replied. He couldn't even feel bad about how Sungjin was frowning, obviously guilty that Younghyun knew all along. “It’s easy to observe things when you’re sitting at the back of the class.”

Younghyun looked to his left, where Wonpil was consistently silent, staring at his plate, unblinking; if anyone would be really affected by this news, it would be him and not Younghyun. He had feared that this would happen, that he would be shown where he lies in Wonpil's heart—right below Sungjin.

No one at the table spoke for a long time.

Younghyun downed a glass of soju again, calling up the ahjumma to bring them another bottle.

Sungjin had taken the last train back to Busan, and Wonpil went with Younghyun back to his apartment—he didn't tell his best friend that. Of course he didn't.

That night, Wonpil pinned him to his bed and held down Younghyun’s hand when he was about to reach for a condom.

Younghyun had nodded, dazed, thinking about how it felt like a parting gift.

“I want to feel you,” he had mewled against Younghyun’s lips as he sunk into his cock, rolling and grinding until they were connected in every way possible. How cruel it was for Wonpil to ruin him for anyone else when he was just going to leave him in the end.

Younghyun gripped Wonpil's waist, hips, and thighs as he thrust up into him, wanting to leave marks that would last a lifetime—if this was the last chance he had to hold Wonpil close, he wanted his body to remember him.

It was the most intense sex Younghyun has ever had; he stared at the bathroom mirror, committing the scratches and bruises all over his chest to his memory, but Wonpil was just looking up at the ceiling as he fiddled with his hands.

There was no doubt about who was on his mind.

“All that talk about getting sick of being in love with Sungjin… was that just bullshit?” Younghyun asked when he returned to the bed, feeling a twisted sense of triumph as Wonpil turned to look at him, frowning and starting to get red. 

“What?”

“You look like you still have feelings for him.”

“I don’t.”

Younghyun scoffed. “How convincing.” 

“Says the one who hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.”

“Me? Are you serious?”

“ _It was long ago. I don’t care—_ that’s exactly what someone who still cares would say,” Wonpil mocked, and Younghyun was so caught up in how he sounded so spiteful that he barely registered his words. “You’re in a bad mood because Sungjin’s dating your ex. I get it. But don’t take it out on me.”

“Like how you took out your frustration on me while riding my dick?”

For a moment, Wonpil looked like he wanted to shout at him—Younghyun wished he would—but he just turned around and covered himself with the blanket until even his head couldn’t be seen.

“You… are being an asshole,” he gritted out.

Younghyun had expected Wonpil to walk out on him or escape to the couch, but Wonpil just laid on his side, back facing him, and somehow, it felt colder than anything else he could have done.

The space beside Younghyun was unoccupied when he woke up in the morning—and it stayed that way for the next days and nights that came.

* * *

Younghyun ends up in a limbo for the rest of the week and the next one that follows.

There was a part of him that wanted to apologize and beg Wonpil for forgiveness, to try and salvage whatever it is they had because he knew it was the only thing keeping him alive in Seoul, and he knew that he was the one who started their short spat.

But he also couldn’t stop thinking about how Wonpil was still in love with Sungjin, and that maybe he should just let things end since that was a fact that won’t ever change—he would be saving himself from so much more misery if he just stayed away from Wonpil and his stubborn unrequited love.

It was stupid, but the second option was proving to be difficult because of how much he missed Wonpil.

Everything reminded him of Wonpil—every corner of the campus was filled with memories of them walking to class or just strolling around, and Younghyun’s apartment still had Wonpil’s things which gave him the hope that he would at least come back one more time to get them.

Maybe for Younghyun, there wasn’t any other option besides the first one after all.

Youngjo had accompanied him to go drinking one night even though he liked being home early—there was someone waiting for him to come home, unlike Younghyun. 

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” his junior asked, not for the first time that week. 

“ _Everything_ ,” Younghyun wanted to say, but he didn’t want to talk Youngjo’s ears off with all that had happened. For the purpose of summarizing and sparing himself the pain of recalling what he did wrong, he decided to just reveal the root of all his problems:

“I think I’m in love with Wonpil.”

Youngjo scratched his head. “It’d be weird if you’re not, hyung.”

“What?”

“Well… he’s your boyfriend?” 

“No he’s not.”

“He’s not?!” Youngjo gasped, genuinely looking like he was having a crisis. Younghyun would have found it funny if he wasn't so lost in his own angst. “Everyone on campus thought you were together.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Hyung, you walk him to his classes. You pick him up from our club; or when you don’t pick him up, he’ll say he’s going home, but when our clubmates say _‘see you at the dorm’,_ he says no, he’s going to your apartment.”

Younghyun laughed, empty and harsh, at Youngjo’s explanation—none of it meant anything in the end. “He’s in love with someone else.”

“Hyung, just steal him away.”

"That's your advice?”

“My boyfriend used to like someone else, too. Tall, muscular, deep voice, cute like a puppy—exactly his type. I’m more of a graceful kind of handsome, like a cat, but Woongie ended up falling for me anyway. I’m quite irresistible.”

Younghyun just stared at him, eyebrows quirked. “Is this just you bragging about yourself?”

“Maybe,” he joked. “But seriously, hyung. Feelings change. Now it's just up to you whether you want to wait or not.”

"How long did you wait?”

"Three weeks?”

"That's barely a month." 

"I told you, I'm irresistible." Youngjo refilled Younghyun’s glass with soju, and he gladly downed it in one shot. "Who knows, hyung. It may take even shorter for you."

“Wonpil-hyung?”

“Youngjo, thanks for bringing him home.” Younghyun lifted his head at the sound of Wonpil’s voice before a wave of nausea hit him. He regretted not listening to Youngjo’s distressed reminders to not drink too much. “It’s late, you should go back, too.”

“I will, hyung. Take care of Younghyun-hyung.”

He opened his eyes and squinted at the small hands that were holding his arms, pulling him inside his apartment and taking off his shoes for him.

“Wonpil? Why are you here? Am I imagining things?”

“We need to talk, but you’re wasted.”

“Fuck… it’s happening isn’t it? You’re going to end things.” 

Wonpil sighs, and the heaviness of it made him want to cry—if this illusion was disappointed in him, then the real one even more so. “Younghyun—”

“Please, Wonpil, come back to me,” Younghyun sniffled. "I won't even care if you're still in love with Sungjin. Just… don’t leave me."

When Wonpil says, "I'm not going to," Younghyun was completely convinced he was hallucinating before everything cut to black.

Younghyun woke up to a headache and the sound of his front door closing—he was about to apologize to Youngjo for being a burden on him the whole night and even in the morning, but instead of his junior, Wonpil was there in his apartment, taking off his coat.

Wonpil placed a tupperware on the dining table. “I bought bugeotguk for your hangover.”

“W—Why are you here?”

“You should eat this while it’s still hot.”

Wonpil sat on a chair and stared at him until Younghyun got out of bed and took the seat on the other end of the table. Younghyun started eating under Wonpil’s still gaze, the silence quickly getting to his nerves.

“Are you here to get your stuff?”

“I’m here to talk,” Wonpil replied and continued to watch Younghyun eat.

Younghyun swallowed some soup, too afraid to ask Wonpil what he meant. As he waited for Wonpil to talk, he committed the image of the bugeotguk in his mind—it might be the last thing he'd ever eat with Wonpil in front of him.

It didn’t take long until the urge to apologize knocked on his chest. 

“I’m sorry. I was a complete asshole.”

Wonpil hung his head and fiddled with the tupperware's cover. “Why did you say those things?”

“It just sucked to see you still hung up on Sungjin. But I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, and it’s not my business.”

“I told you, I’m not in love with him anymore," Wonpil sighed out. “And I need to apologize, too. I was upset because I thought you weren’t over Minjung. You looked so annoyed when Sungjin said he was dating her now.”

Younghyun heard Wonpil’s explanation but that didn’t mean he completely understood it; he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Wonpil wasn’t quietly distressed that night because of Sungjin, but because of him. 

“I was annoyed because _you_ looked so affected by it.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with you even though I knew it wasn’t like that between us.”

Wonpil stands up, and Younghyun shut his eyes, not wanting to watch him walk away, but a sudden pain in his arm made him open them again.

He didn't leave. Wonpil just _pinched_ him.

“Ow—what was that for?”

“For being an ass and for insisting I’m still in love with Sungjin,” he said as he sat back down while Younghyun rubbed his arm. “And I’m in love with you, too.”

Younghyun blinked. Wonpil avoided eye contact but he was blinking at the table, his cheeks starting to get flushed.

“You’re… you—?”

“I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I’ve been in love with you since last semester. I didn’t say anything because I thought you only wanted a casual relationship, and when Sungjin visited, I thought you still liked Minjung.”

Younghyun let go of his spoon so he could run both his hands through his hair in slight frustration and disbelief. “We’ve been in love with each other this whole time?”

“Apparently only we didn’t know—everyone else thought we were together. Namjoon told me while I was moping over you.”

“You moped over me?” Younghyun felt incoherent, only being able to stammer out short questions to what Wonpil was saying. 

“I missed you. I would keep looking outside the window when I was in the music production club thinking I’d see you waiting for me outside.”

“I was probably hovering by the staircase,” he admitted and Wonpil smiled that wide bashful grin Younghyun had thought he might never receive again. “I missed you, too.”

“Are you done with your bugeotguk?” 

Younghyun nodded although Wonpil’s question was a bit out of nowhere. “Thanks for this.”

“Okay, good.” 

The next thing Younghyun knew, he was stumbling out of his chair and Wonpil was pulling him down on top of him as he lay down on the bed, half of his legs still dangling outside of the bed’s frame. With the way Wonpil looped his arms around his neck tight, Younghyun had no choice but to put all of his weight on him—Wonpil wouldn’t budge no matter how Younghyun tried to loosen his hold so he just melted into his embrace, hoping that he wasn’t suffocating him.

His body being entwined with Wonpil’s again, not knowing where one ended and the other began, felt right—it felt like coming home.

“That was the most horrible two weeks of my college life. Worse than midterms and finals weeks.”

Younghyun groaned directly to Wonpil’s ear, enjoying how he shivered lightly. “God, I know.”

"Let's not be stupid next time and just talk about our feelings."

"Sounds difficult."

"It'll get easier. Just know that when I say something, I really mean it," Wonpil said.

"Yeah." Younghyun bumped their heads together. "Yeah, me too."

Wonpil’s soft breathing became shallower and Younghyun had to remove the arms around his neck so he could ease off some of his weight. "Am I crushing you?"

"A little, but I like the feeling. You're warm."

"That’s a bit kinky."

Younghyun still rolls them over so that Wonpil was lying on top of his chest and not getting closer to suffocating with each second. Wonpil rested his cheek on Younghyun’s sternum, his eyes fluttering closed as Younghyun ran his hands up and down his back.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” Wonpil asked.

He had a faint headache from all the drinking he did, but all his memories were intact; Younghyun could still remember how he was almost sobbing in front of Wonpil. “I do. I sounded like a desperate loser, didn’t I?”

“It was the first time someone asked me not to leave them.” Younghyun wrapped his arms around Wonpil’s waist—he would ask it again and again if it meant Wonpil knew he was being chosen, that he was who Younghyun wanted. “I was going to say it first if you weren’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t have ended things with me? Even if you thought I really wasn’t over Minjung?”

“No. I’d be in love with you secretly. That’s my expertise,” Wonpil replied with a soft laugh.

Younghyun kissed the top of Wonpil’s head and closed his eyes to revel in how their chests moved in sync as they breathed. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m in love with you, too. Time to retire with all the pining.”

**Epilogue**

"Where can I put Bulbasaur?”

“By the window beside our bed? I think the amount of sunlight is perfect there.”

Wonpil placed his succulent on the window's ledge while Younghyun transferred the boxes in the hallway to the living room that barely had any space left. 

After the second semester had ended together with Wonpil’s yearly contract with the university dorm, Younghyun had asked again if he wanted to move in with him, and without all the possible problems brought by being one-sidedly in love with his roommate, Wonpil had accepted the offer.

"Are you really okay with displaying that? My ex-girlfriend is in it," Younghyun asked as Wonpil took out the frame with their class picture but without his photo with Minjung in the back. Younghyun had removed it himself, placing it in the pocket inside his journal instead.

"Are _you_ okay with it? The guy I was in love with for three years is in it."

Younghyun narrowed his eyes at the Sungjin in the photo. "Hmm. Guess it's fair."

Wonpil puts it up on their new bookshelf, twice the width of Younghyun’s old one and painfully assembled during the previous night for more than three hours. 

"Look at these young, clueless faces," Wonpil said, pointing a finger at their high school selves, standing beside each other with wide smiles and awkward peace signs. "They could never expect what's going to happen."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! as always, kudos, comments, twitter mentions/dms are really really appreciated. thank you thank you thank you <3
> 
> twt: [@utopiadays](https://twitter.com/utopiadays)


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